To Take Flight
by The Fighting Irishman
Summary: The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent; the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult; the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise. -Alden Nowlan What happens after a loss. A vignette from the Trodaireverse.


A/N: I own a copy of at least one game from every Generation, but that's about it.

He'd forgotten what the feeling was like.

Somehow that was a good thing, he thought. It had to mean that he was a success, right? To escape the feeling of disappointment and loss for so long had to be a good thing.

But then again, maybe that just made the pain of loss hurt so much more when it finally happened.

He had taken off the majority of his battle attire. He'd even deigned to remove the cape, figuring that it was the right thing to do. Now he was in pitch black clothing, a dark shirt and dress pants. Considering the darkened lighting of the room, it made him look positively ghoulish.

Of course, the lighting choice wasn't for him. It was for his friend.

Dragonite was lying in the hotel room bed, sleeping peacefully. Lance had requested a king-sized bed, and yet still his loyal friend's feet were dangling over the edge slightly. Not that it felt that, as the painkillers served as a natural sleep aid. The worst of the bruises and scrapes were fading away, but there was no doubt that the mighty Dragon had been in a nasty brawl earlier that night. Given the peaceful look on its face though, one couldn't help but feel sorry for it.

It was a little past midnight. Lance knew that the craziness over the end result of their battle hadn't subsided yet, as there was still sounds of celebrations in the streets by people who were more shocked and stunned than thrilled that one of their greatest heroes had fallen. It was rather poetic, that they were so busy reacting to this incredible turn of events that they didn't even know that the man whose downfall they were reacting to was staying in a hotel room just like the rest of them.

He'd considered drinking himself to sleep, but decided not to. First off, that was Clair's method of dealing with disappointment. Secondly, he didn't like the taste of alcohol for the sake of alcohol. Thirdly, Arach would probably feed him to a Hydreigon if he was caught.

Arach…

Lance winced at the thought of what his Grandmaster would say to him after this match. In the days leading up to the fight, Arach had been noticeably cool to Lance's training, imploring that he train harder than he had ever trained before. Clair had been there and asked the older man why her cousin should break his team's backs for the sake of stomping an unworthy contender.

Lance had privately delighted in Arach's cold response. The Grandmaster had turned towards her, adjusted his glasses slightly, and never raising his voice shut her down in one sentence.

"Would Steven let up?"

At the time, Lance enjoyed that. Now, he felt frustrated at the older man's near-omniscient prediction. If he saw him again, he didn't know what he'd say.

There was a knock on the door. Without turning around, Lance found his voice.

"Come in." He said. He glanced at his sleeping friend. Dragonite was a log. It would take a hail of gunfire to wake that beast up.

The door opened, and a man dressed in depressingly bland clothes walked in. Lance immediately looked away in shame.

"Is there something on my face?" Arach asked. Lance shook his head. The Grandmaster sat down across from Lance at the small table in the corner of the room, and for a while allowed the silence to reign. He was waiting, willing to let things play out. Finally, Lance spoke.

"I failed you." He said. Arach raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Is that so?" He asked.

"Yes it is, and don't act so patronizing." Lance said. "I spent ages training for that fight and that tournament. I worked hours and hours to prepare Haxorus for the big stage, spent months rehabbing Salamence so that it would be able to still compete in its advanced age, and made sure to keep Dragonite from letting its ego grow too large. And I lost." He looked at Arach. "I'm not exactly worthy of being your protégé, am I Grandmaster?" Lance asked wistfully. To his surprise, Arach shrugged.

"Is that how you truly feel about that match?" He asked. Lance nodded. "Are you sure?" Arach asked again. Now Lance was confused.

"What are you getting at?" Lance asked. Arach shrugged again.

"I find it interesting that you think you failed, when I think that you put together one of the most exciting matches that tournament has seen in years. I find it interesting that you think you didn't prepare Haxorus enough, when I think that that youngling has a fine career ahead of it. I find it interesting that you think you couldn't retrain Salamence, when I think that old codger fought better with you than any time it fought with me. I find it interesting that you were worried that Dragonite would have an ego problem, when I thought he behaved the way a true champion would behave and knew when to fold them. But most of all, I find it interesting that you think so lowly of yourself, when I think that I am proud of you."

There was a silence. Lance mulled over the Grandmaster's words.

"But…I lost." He said lamely. Arach smiled.

"Lance, what is the teaching that I've always reminded you of, ever since you were little?" He asked. Lance repeated it the way a bored child would intone.

"Live brilliantly, fight endlessly, and love passionately." He said. "What of it?"

"Have you ever really stopped to think on what that saying really means? As in, what it truly boils down to?" Arach asked.

Lance was about to answer, when he realized that he had no answer other than something that could be classified as shallow-reading. Taking the younger man's silence as an answer in itself, Arach spoke.

"Living brilliantly is about living in a way that shines in the eyes of those that see us live. It's about how we carry ourselves, how we treat the life we've been given, how we treat others in the life they've been given. It _isn't _about living brilliantly in how you _appear._ That's the thing that Clair doesn't understand. She believes that living brilliantly is all about the clothes you wear, or the jewelry on your ears, or the family bloodline you are a part of, or even the flashing lights of fame. It may seem brilliant, but it isn't fulfilling. You've noticed how unhappy she really is, haven't you?" He asked. Lance just nodded. There was no need to belabor _that_ point. Arach continued.

"Your problem on the other hand, is that you've overplayed one tenet, and forgotten about another. Lance, you are a brilliant fighter. A creative genius on the battlefield. I love watching you pull out a victory, no matter how steep the odds. But there are times where I think that's all you think about. You only seem to have time for the next fight. The next conquest. You're fighting endlessly, but you're not gaining any ground. That's not the true meaning of that tenet. It means to never stop bettering yourself as a _person_, to not lay low on a plateau. It doesn't just belong on the battlefield, but in life in general. But the most important thing is that you've forgotten the last tenet: love passionately. It isn't about loving to win like you do, or loving the fame like Clair does. It's about loving _everything_. It's about being thankful for what you have, what you are given, and what you know you are capable of. But it's also about loving yourself. You're not happy either, are you?" Arach asked.

Lance couldn't say anything. He simply nodded. Arach smiled sadly.

"Clair's fault lies in her belief that you can fill the hole with material goods. You think that you can fill it with victory in battle. It's neither of those things. It's about loving yourself, as much as you can love others. How many friends do you have, Lance?" He asked.

"One." Lance said. "And he barely even talks." He admitted when Arach looked at him pointedly.

"Has there ever been time in your life to love someone else? Or have you been spending that time in rings of battle instead?" Arach asked.

Lance didn't answer. They both knew the answer to this question.

"Lance, I know that you're yearning to fill that hole in you somehow. And you think that winning every battle will do that for you. But it won't. It'll string you out, burn you to a husk that doesn't know how to feel anymore. I don't want that for you. I've _never _wanted that for you." Arach said sadly.

"But…" Lance began. "But I'm doing this for you as much as for me." He admitted. Arach smiled.

"You have _never _disappointed me, Lance. And I have _never _not been proud of you. You're the son I don't have. We may not be related by blood, but that's how I think of you. And I know that I've, for better or for worse, taken on that father role for you growing up as well." He said. He cleared his throat. "So take this as a bit of 'father's advice,' I guess. I don't want you to feel that the key to being happy is to impress me. You've impressed me. Now I want you to learn to love yourself. I want _you _to be happy."

Lance nodded. Arach took a deep breath.

"These may be the ramblings of an old fool-" He was cut off by Lance.

"You aren't an old fool." Lance said protectively. Arach smiled at that.

"I appreciate that. But here it is in a nutshell: Pokemon, be it battling or contests or training or Pokeathlons or whatever…is not meant to be shadowed by life itself. It's the other way around. Your own life and happiness should be enriched by what experiences you have with Pokemon, not defined by them. Does that make sense?" He asked.

Lance thought about it for a moment. And then something clicked, and he nodded. Arach nodded in approval.

"Good. Now tell me…does the loss hurt as bad?" He asked. Lance shook his head.

"I…I guess not. I mean, it hurts but…now I feel a little bit better." He admitted.

"Good." Arach said. "And it looks like your friend is feeling better too, by the sight of things." He pointed over to Dragonite, who was now sitting on the bed fully awake. Lance groaned.

"Great, now he'll never fall back asleep." He said. Arach laughed.

"Then I suppose we'd better tire him out. Come, I'd like to show you something." He pressed a Pokeball on his belt, and in a flash there stood his Garchomp. Arach opened the window of the hotel room, and the wind blew in to cool them all.

"Where are we going?" Lance asked. Arach got on Garchomp's back, and cryptically smiled.

"Just follow my lead." Arach said. There was a whoosh, and they were out into the night sky. Lance hastily put on his coat, hopped on Dragonite's back, and away they went into the night. On the ground, there were throngs of people cheering.

None of them noticed the two Dragon riders in the night.

They flew for what seemed like hours. Dragonite was a fast flier, yet even he paled in comparison to the raw speed of Arach's Garchomp. Lance quietly told his old friend to follow, and for the first time instead of focusing on the quest at hand, contented himself ot see all around him.

They soared over the mountains.

They rushed through the grasslands.

They glided across a vast ocean of a desert.

Then they crossed an endless sea. There were Pokemon out there, rising from the murky blackness like monsters of old, all looking up at the two Dragons. If anything, they seemed to know what these two Dragons were up to, and respectfully gave them their distance. To Lance, the sight of a murder of Gyarados all staring up at him with those rage-filled eyes only to quietly let them pass was one of the most exhilarating (and terrifying) things he had ever witnessed.

After some time, rock formations began to rise out of the water. They twisted and spiraled and arched across the landscape below, almost like snakes or other mythical creatures. Lance blinked the tears out of his eyes from the screaming wind to see that there was something coming in the distance. Situated in the middle of the deep ocean, far from the reaches of mere human settlements…was a tower. Tall enough to touch the clouds, yet clearly crumbling from its age. He had no idea how old it was, yet felt the ancient whispers in the winds that this must be hallowed ground. Arach and Garchomp reached the base of the tower, and with a whoosh began to glide up the side of the building at a high velocity. Dragonite bravely followed suit, though it was hard to keep up with the sleek Dragon in front of them.

Finally, they came to the top of the tower. Garchomp let Arach off, and with a yawn sat in an idle position. Dragonite dropped Lance off, and with a sigh plopped on its backside. Lance looked around him. There was something vaguely familiar about this place, yet he couldn't place it. There appeared to be statues around the surface, though they were so worn by the wind and time that they might have just been architectural designs worn away. Arach was standing in the middle, looking into the distance.

The sun was rising over the horizon, and as they walked to the edge of the tower Lance finally saw how high up they were. It was mind-boggling how far the sea reached. In the distance he thought he saw islands and settlements, but he wasn't sure. He turned to Arach.

"Where are we?" He asked. Arach was still staring at the sunrise when he spoke.

"Hoenn. More particularly, the ancient tower of the land. The Sky Pillar."

Something about that name filled Lance with a rush. He had heard of this place, hallowed by Dragon masters through the ages, but had never been here before. He felt incredibly honored that the Grandmaster had deigned to bring him here.

"Why are we here?" Lance asked. Arach swept his arm out towards the ocean in front of them.

"In our most trying and lowest of lows, I like to think that this place reminds us of perspective. As in, how large this land is and just what it contains. If nothing else, I feel that being here helps me dream again. Call me the idealist at heart, but this always reminds me of my purpose in life: to enrich my life and the lives of others through our order's study and training of Dragons." He said.

Arach turned to face Lance and looked him directly in the eye.

"Very few people come to this place in their lifetime, Lance. It was close to twenty years when I set foot on this tower for the first time. I've made it a point to come here at least once a year. Perhaps I should come more often…but my point is this. Only the highest of Dragon Masters come to this tower for this purpose: to bestow upon those younger than them the highest of praise we can give." He said.

Lance felt his legs go weak as the implications of Arach's words began to sink in.

"My name is Arach, and upon this tower I dub you, Lance, my rightful successor as Grandmaster of the Dragon Clan Order. When the time comes for me to step down from this position, I will do so with gladness knowing that the one I have chosen is one that is deserving of such a task." He said. "And who knows? Perhaps one day you will be here to name your eventual successor on this place as well. And _he_ will be here to bless it." Arach said.

Lance was confused.

"He? Who's he?" He asked.

Then he turned around.

It was a dream. It must be a dream. For there was something in front of him now that only existed in fairy tales. It was coiled along one of the largest rock structures on the tower, and perhaps it had been there this whole time. Ancient markings across its skin, an emerald green that shined in the early morning light. Its eyes yellow and piercing, staring through his very soul. It was the stuff of legends. It only existed in books. But it was here. It was alive.

Rayquaza.

Lance tried to speak, but his mouth only opened dumbly, and he opened and closed it once to try to find the words. He couldn't. Beside him, Arach laughed. It was an almost musical sound.

"You've been listening to us the whole time, haven't you old friend?" He asked the mythical beast. If Lance didn't know any better, he'd say that the thing was smirking. Arach raised his eyebrows. "What do you think? Too corny? I always sound corny when I'm being honest."

There was a sound. It was quiet, yet rough and foreboding. It was Rayquaza snorting. Arach nodded.

"I appreciate your honesty. I always have." He said. He turned to the thunderstruck Lance. "Lance, this is our clan's oldest friend. He's been around longer than any of us, and I get the feeling he's going to outlast us too. What do you think?" He asked the ancient Dragon. There was a rumbling sound. It sounded like Rayquaza was chuckling. It was a sound few people alive or dead had ever heard.

"This can't be real." Lance finally said. "I'm dreaming, and I'm going to wake up in my hotel room with a hell of a hangover."

There was a terrifying noise. Rayquaza had let out a growl, not quite a roar. But it was still enough to make Lance, Garchomp, and Dragonite all flinch in terror. Arach hadn't moved.

"Watch your language, Lance." He said. "Rayquaza doesn't particularly like profanities, no matter how slight, in his presence."

"…Understood." Lance said. Arach smiled.

"So. I think that about covers introductions." He said. He turned to Rayquaza. "I imagine you will be patrolling Hoenn this morning again?"

Rayquaza nodded. Arach smiled.

"Excellent!" He said. "And I imagine you would request our attendance?"

Another nod. Arach's smile grew wider.

"Perfect. Lead the way, old friend. We have a lot of catching up to do." He said.

Lance began to walk over to Dragonite, only to feel Arach's hand on his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Arach asked. Lance dumbly pointed to Dragonite.

"Uh…to fly with Dragonite." He said. He said Arach's expression hadn't changed. He looked back towards Rayquaza.

The being looked almost…_expectant._

Lance looked back to Arach.

Then to Rayquaza.

Arach.

Rayquaza.

And then two and two made four.

"No way." He whispered. Arach's smile could have lit up Castelia City.

"It's a rite of passage." He said. He pushed Lance in the direction he needed to go.

Lance didn't see Arach get on Dragonite's back (deciding to give Garchomp a rest). His eyes were only on the beast in front of him. Rayquaza slithered down the stone structure till it was lying on the stone surface of the roof. It bent its tail towards Lance, adjusting the air flaps on its back to act as a makeshift stairway. Lance slowly climbed up, until he was sitting a few feet behind Rayquaza's head. He felt the air flaps behind him and around him adjust into a makeshift saddle. Then Arach and Dragonite took flight.

"Catch us if you can!" Arach shouted. Rayquaza looked up over its shoulder at the Dragon rider it held. And Lance smiled.

"Rayquaza, _fly._" He said.

The beast obeyed.

Lance didn't see Arach and Dragonite as Rayquaza soared past them with ease. He barely heard the whoosh of the wind in his ears, or the screams of excitement he made as Rayquaza looped and spiraled through the morning sky. He didn't care about his reputation as the greatest trainer this side of Johto. He didn't care about winning, or losing, or anything so petty. All he knew was that, for the first time in his life, he felt something in his heart that hadn't been there before finally be filled.

He was happy.

_**All lives touch other lives to create something new and alive**_

A/N: And in my first extension of the "Trodaireverse," here is a one-shot I hope you enjoyed. Take flight, dear readers, and remember that you are awesome just like the Dragon Riders.

See you next time.


End file.
